When I was a kid, I loved ordering peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at restaurants. The white bread, creamy peanut butter, and store-bought jam were coveted treats compared to the whole wheat bread/chunky PB/homemade jam that we had at home. The one person who wasn’t so fond of my ordering patterns? My dad. It would irritate him to no end: “We can make that at home! Order something else.” I knew where he was coming from in that he grew up pretty poor and felt that restaurant orders shouldn’t be something so ubiquitous and, dare I say it, pedestrian.